


Leashes

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Collars, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Master/Pet, Pet Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 18:01:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13664328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Left with a temporary master, Ravus is skeptical of Ignis and his pets.





	Leashes

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “master Ignis & his pets, both Sexy or Not Sexy scenes are good noctis, prompto, and gladio as his pets, feel free to add others as well (either as ignis' pet/s or as pets belonging to someone else that ignis is just watching over for the time being, im partial to ravus and/or aranea and/or luna but others are def welcome too) Bonuses: +Personalized Collars for each pet, with the collar being the only 'clothes' each pet gets to wear +Rules such as pets not being allowed on the furniture, allowed to walk on 2 legs, eat from the table, etc +followup: mentions of mild bathroom control (eg. having to wait to 'go for a walk' or using dog pads to pee) +++++ignis having to separate his pets for trying to get busy while his back was turned (if theyre not allowed to 'breed') +++mentions of breeding/impregnation if anyone in the group is able to get pregnant” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4747.html?thread=8938379#cmt8938379).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Ravus never cared much for Insomnia, even before his hatred for Lucis grew to its current heights. He cares less for the small, horribly plain apartment he’s now crammed inside, though at least, he supposes, it’s better than the palace. The table before him is a simple stained wood contraption, lacking any trace of gold or gems. The man he waits for is a low-born one, lacking the inherent grandeur that Ravus has grown used to. He feels like he’ll die of boredom in this place, and worse, he feels _abandoned_.

But pets don’t question their master’s wishes. The chancellor told him he would be in capable hands, at least until the Empire so deigned to return for their wayward charge. The silver collar made specially for him seems to burn against his skin, tucked safely below his clothes. Ravus hasn’t yet decided to reveal it. If he’s any animal, he’s a noble feline of impeccable taste, and he doesn’t idly bend for a common master of unruly mutts. He waits in calculated silence and weighs the circumstances set before him.

Then Ignis Scientia reappears, walking in from the kitchenette around the corner. He holds two steaming mugs within his slender figures—one of pure white porcelain and one wide, shallow cup that borders on the status of a bowl. Ravus eyes him warily, but Ignis stops just short of the dining room table. He eyes Ravus coolly through his polished lenses, then drawls, “Is it the custom of the Empire to allow animals on the furniture?”

Ravus bristles. Capable hands indeed. He opens his mouth, wanting to berate such impudence, but Ignis’ unnerving gaze remains unfazed. His reserved countenance would, perhaps, make Ravus’ _true_ master proud.

And Ravus wants to be returned to that master with glowing praise, so that their reunion will be one of overwhelming _pleasure_ , as it always is on the few occasions that Ravus manages to please his difficult chancellor. He was ordered here, to serve another man, and doing so will most assuredly secure that favour. So Ravus begrudgingly slips out of the chair. 

He kneels on the thick rug laid across the hardwood floor. He looks up at Ignis, who looms, tall and stately, above him. There’s no approval in Ignis’ eyes.

He merely asks, “And those clothes?” When Ravus just _glares_ , Ignis smoothly adds, “None of _my_ pets would prove so impudent.”

Ravus knows Ignis couldn’t possibly have pets of his caliber. But he listens, nonetheless, and stiffly strips out of his jacket.

As he does so, Ignis sets the bowl-like mug on the floor before him. Ravus was asked if he wanted tea on his arrival, and his tight-lipped “yes” was probably the last word he’ll speak for some time. But Ravus is used to biting his tongue, and he wouldn’t have this particular game set any other way. 

Though he isn’t yet sure of this player, he still follows the rules. He sheds every scrap of clothing but his collar, and he bends to lick Ignis’ gift right off the floor.

* * *

It isn’t long before the first of Ignis’ pets arrive. The skies are growing dark beyond the wide windows of Ignis’ high-up apartment, and Ravus has only spent about one uneventful hour lounging in the living space while Ignis has continued on his day. He pays little attention to Ravus, which, at first, seemed a blessing, and now proves only an annoyance. Then the doorbell rings, and Ignis is ushering in one of the two people Ravus least wanted to see. 

Prince Noctis yawns as he slouches into the apartment, dropping his bag in the corner before shedding all his clothes. Ravus pointedly looks away, not willing to indulge on that particular delight with this particular young man. When Noctis is completely bare, he gets down on all fours, and Ravus sees out of the corner of his eye Ignis come to straighten out his collar. It’s sleek and black, as dark as his hair and the clothes he left behind. Thin and simple, it still has the shimmer of expense, clearly well made, and a metal pendant on the front surely boasts his name. Ignis fingers it for a few seconds before pressing a kiss to Noctis’ forehead, and Noctis hums happily and presses into the touch.

For this beginning, Ravus is tense. He sits at the foot of the couch, knees drawn up to his chest, shielding his own nakedness while Noctis crawls languidly about the apartment. Ignis returns to a folder he has spread open on the dining room table. Noctis spares one look at Ravus, then continues on his way. Clearly, he was warned of this, though no one told _Ravus_ that he’d be sharing a master with Noctis Lucis Caelum. If they had, maybe he would’ve backed out. His opinion of Ignis has, if possible, lowered.

His opinion of Noctis drops even more when the prince crawls into the living area, only to reach the coffee table and pluck the television remote up in his mouth. It can’t be sanitary, but clearly, the use of opposable thumbs isn’t encouraged. Noctis looks completely unbothered as he totes the remote over to where Ignis sits. Ravus watches Noctis and tells himself it’s to see what happens, not to see Noctis’ shapely rear flex as he crawls. His pink cock—surprisingly sizeable—swings between his plush thighs as he moves, but Ravus _definitely_ doesn’t look at that. Noctis first drops the remote into Ignis’ lap, then noses it forward, effectively dragging his chin over Ignis’ crotch in the process.

Ignis pauses his work to glance benevolently down at Noctis. Noctis stares back up like they’ll be able to have a whole conversation with their eyes alone. Then Ignis asks, “Would you like to watch something, Noct?”

Noctis grins victoriously and nods. Ravus keeps his snort to himself but can’t help thinking: _Spoiled._

 _Ravus_ didn’t bother their master when he was clearly busy with work. _Ravus_ understands boundaries. But Noctis even rubs himself against Ignis’ legs before crawling back towards the living area, and Ignis, to Ravus’ annoyance, gets up.

Though the temperature in the apartment is comfortably warm, Ignis remains fully dressed. When he walks towards them, Ravus allows himself to look: to eye up the long, lean form of his temporary master—the well-fitted clothes, the well-styled hair, even the rough-looking riding gloves that probably feel _divine_ when drawn across bare skin. Not that Ravus would or wants to know. He doesn’t move when Ignis comes right to him, but Ignis ignores him anyway, sitting down on the other side of the couch.

Noctis crawls to him and settles at his feet, leaning against his knees and lazily watching the screen. Ignis flicks the television on. He scrolls through a few different things before settling on the history channel. Noctis whines at this, but Ignis coos, “Hush,” and reaches down to brush through his dark hair. That stills Noctis. Ravus judges Ignis even harder: _his_ master would never reward him for such behaviour. If he’d shown displeasure at any of Ardyn’s choices, he’d be spanked raw.

But then, he already knew Ignis would be nothing like Ardyn. Ignis continues to idly pet Noctis as the television rolls on, and Noctis leans happily into it. Ravus receives no such affection from Ignis. Or, usually, Ardyn. If possible, it makes him hate Noctis even more. 

They’re maybe halfway through a surprisingly interesting and thoroughly educational special on the royal tombs when the doorbell rings. This time, Ignis doesn’t get up to answer it. He barely reacts. But Ravus stares at the doorway to the hall, and sure enough, a man soon steps through it.

This one is practically twice Noctis’ size. He’s broad and built, and as he peels off his dark clothes, it’s revealed that every inch of that girth is pure _muscle_. An elaborate tattoo stretches over his bulging biceps and all down his arms, swathed across his back. For a moment, Ravus is so lost eyeing up that tanned, taut body that he doesn’t even recognize the man—then he places it: Noctis’ bodyguard. Gladiolus, he thinks. In perfect confirmation, Ignis calls, “Gladio.”

The beefcake instantly drops down to all fours, even as he finishes kicking out of his pants. His collar is a dark brown to match his wild hair, that collar thick and meaty, like the rest of him. He grins lecherously as he crawls over to his master, and when he gets there, Ignis gives his faux-mohawk a single stroke and quietly murmurs, “Good boy.”

Gladiolus looks like he wants to eat Ignis for breakfast. But he remains silent and on his knees. Ravus can’t help stealing a look at the massive cock that rests against his thighs. Ravus can begrudgingly admit that seeing Ignis so easily dominate such an enormous man definitely makes him more interesting. The beefcake seems to wear Ignis’ collar with pride, and Noctis nuzzles into Ignis’ lap as though to bait the attention back to him. Ignis’ hand remains on Noctis, but perhaps only because Gladiolus doesn’t fight for it. Gladiolus remains obediently next to his prince, though he spends more time casting lustful looks at Ignis than the television, which Ignis, rather admirably, ignores.

They must be nearing the end of the special when the doorbell rings _again_. Ravus is sure this one must just be a coworker or food delivery or absolutely anything else that isn’t another human pet, but he’s proven wrong. A small, trim blond with fluffed hair and a dazzling grin wanders into the apartment. As he strips his punk-like outfit off, Ravus begins to wonder if Ignis commands an entire harem. It’s notable enough that he seems to own the _prince_ , but to have the prince’s shield as well, and yet another boy-toy, is borderline ridiculous. The blond actually stumbles in his haste to shed his shoes, and then Ignis is greeting, “Prompto.”

Ravus takes that as a name. The blond’s too far away to be able to read his crimson collar, but Ravus can already see that it looks less serious than the others’—playful, _almost_ gimmicky, and the pendent hanging from the front is even shaped like a chocobo. As soon as Prompto’s naked, he’s scrambling over to join the herd, his pale, lithe body a surprisingly alluring display. It isn’t until he’s almost reached the couch that Ravus realizes he’s still, somehow, managed to retain a spec of fabric: one arm bears a wristband that Ignis, surprisingly, says nothing of.

But when Prompto reaches the couch and tries to clamber on, Ignis snaps abruptly to life, lightly shoving Prompto right off and barking, “ _No_.” His aristocratic voice comes out so harsh that all four heads turn to him. Prompto visibly wilts, and Ignis scolds, “How many times must I tell you: pets are _not_ allowed on the furniture.”

In a sick sort of way, Ravus gets a kick out of the show of discipline. Ignis holds firm, unrelenting, and Prompto leans over Noctis’ folded legs to press his mouth against Ignis’ boot. Ravus had thought it an odd choice to retain shoes indoors, but now he understands. Prompto apologetically licks at them while he whimpers his distress, but it doesn’t seem to appease his master.

“I’m afraid this really is the last time I will allow such a discretion. The next time you displease me, you will be muzzled.” Prompto groans, entirely too human-sounding, and Ignis rolls right on: “Tonight, your punishment will be to sleep out here instead of in my bedroom.” Prompto whines all the louder and mouths forlornly at Ignis’ boot, but Ignis nudges him away with the other foot, and Prompto sullenly pads over to Gladiolus’ other side. 

Then Ignis resumes petting Noctis, who does give Prompto a sympathetic look, but quickly melts back into preening at his master’s touch. While the television continues on, Ravus looks up at Ignis, newly impressed.

And a little turned on.

* * *

Ravus should’ve known that Ignis wouldn’t be one for unsophisticated food. He diligently works in the kitchen area while his pets play in the living room. Ravus spends some time sitting in the corner of the kitchen and staring up at Ignis’ taut ass, but eventually, Ignis chides, “Don’t be so anti-social, Ravus. Go play with the others.” Ravus scowls, but he listens. It doesn’t help that he does sort of like Ignis’ voice, and the way it sounds around his name sends a shiver down his spine.

From what Ravus has seen, Noctis seems like a horribly lazy creature, especially for a prince. He lounges against Gladiolus while Gladiolus and Prompto bat a small ball back and forth. Prompto keeps bending down to move it with his nose, but Gladiolus just idly flicks it with the back of his hand. His eyes are mostly on Prompto’s body, which Ravus can understand. Purely objectively speaking, all three of them are rather handsome specimens. But there’s something particularly _pretty_ about Prompto’s soft body, made all the better by how excitable and pliant it seems. With that in mind, it’s a wonder Gladiolus even manages to keep up the pretense of the ball at all.

By the same token, it’s a wonder Prompto can be so engaged in a simple toy, when a hot hunk of eye candy is butt naked before him, not to mention a beautiful prince. Objectively speaking, of course. Ravus still tries not to spend much time on Noctis, even though his master evidently has the exact opposite policy.

Ravus reminds himself that he dislikes them _all_ , both for their proximity to the prince and their position in his new master’s life. He’s never had to share a master with three other men before, although Ardyn was known to drag Loqi in from time to time, and once, he left Ravus with Aranea, who seemed to subjugate just about everyone she came in contact with.

It’s while he’s off on this mental tangent that the scene before him abruptly alters—Gladiolus lunges forward, taking Prompto by surprise and tackling him right to the floor. Prompto squawks, “Hey—” before hurriedly shutting up. Gladiolus, on all fours above him, just smirks down and easily flips him, manhandling him onto all fours too. Prompto is made to face forward as Gladiolus towers over him from behind, effectively mounting him, looking for all the world like a horny dog about to mate its bitch.

Then Gladiolus is rutting into Prompto with abandon, and Prompto is blushing bright red across his cute freckles, his flushed face falling into one lewd moan after the other. That stirs Noctis out of his slumber; he looks at them with just as much burning lust as Ravus is starting to feel. Gladiolus even bites at Prompto’s shoulder, but before he gets much further, Ignis is reappearing from the kitchen. 

He actually comes to grab Gladiolus by the collar, dragging Gladiolus right off, and Gladiolus growls but goes. Prompto whines and hangs his head in clear shame, but Gladiolus is the one that Ignis scolds this time. He lightly smacks the back of Gladiolus’ head and snaps, “Bad!” Gladiolus actually grimaces. Ignis continues, “How many times must I tell you not to breed Prompto? You know perfectly well he can’t carry your pups, even if he does look like a good bitch.” Prompto’s head actually snaps up, glowing as though he’s been paid a lovely compliment. “And if I wanted to breed my stud, it would be _my_ decision, and you should know better than to try and do so behind my back.”

Gladiolus looks bitterly at the floor. The game robs him of his ability to apologize, but Ravus is sure that if he could, he would. Ignis continues to look coldly down at him for the moment, then bends to grab him by his collar again.

Ignis drags Gladiolus right to one corner of the room. Watching the bigger man scramble obediently after his master is thoroughly exhilarating. Ravus stares at every well-defined muscle as it dimples and moves, until Gladiolus is set in place and told, “Stay.” Then Ignis is returning to tap Prompto and nudge him further away from Gladiolus. Prompto pads over to Noctis and looks tentatively up, as though asking permission to be next to his friend, and Ignis carefully asks, “Noct, I trust that you can control yourself around my Prompto?” Noctis quickly nods, but Ignis still warns, “If I find you trying to breed him as well, I’ll be most displeased.”

Noctis gives Ignis a determined look, as though to say he’d never be so bratty. Somehow, Ravus doesn’t believe it. And he doesn’t want to believe it. He finds himself actually hoping that Noctis will turn out to be a complete brat and mount Prompto the second Ignis’ back is turned. He wants Ignis to come down _hard_ on his other cat, the lazy, unsophisticated one. But most importantly, he wants to be the most well behaved pet, left golden in the aftermath.

Unfortunately, when Ignis leaves, Noctis does rub against Prompto, but nothing more. The two nuzzle and coo at each other like tooth-rotting, lovesick puppies. 

Still, Ravus is both surprised and pleased to learn that they can do no more—that their sexual release and feigned fertility is entirely in their master’s hands. Given that they’re all naked and all so cuddly with one another, Ravus had expected a far more lax attitude. 

Once more, he’s impressed.

* * *

At dinner, Ignis serves them all meals in ceramic bowls set on the floor. It doesn’t surprise Ravus, given the obvious rules. He now understands why there’s a rug below the dining table, where the four of them kneel to eat. Ravus’ knees are starting to get sore from being on them so long, but that faint ache is part of what he enjoys about the scene, and none of the others complain. Prompto seems to have no trouble setting into his food—a rice and vegetable dish—while Gladiolus eats almost as fiercely. None of them use their hands. Noctis noses at the broccoli on the side of his bowl for a bit, then shifts over to Ignis’ legs. 

To Ravus’ immense irritation, Ignis holds a cream-laden wafer beneath the table, and Noctis gets to bite it out of his hand, then lick the crumbs away. Ignis feeds him another two that way, each time with Noctis worshipping every digit that lingers by his mouth. Ignis even pets him after, and it makes Ravus wonder if Noctis is the favourite. But then, the other two have misbehaved, and the slight preference to Noctis could simply be a temporary result of that. It still makes Ravus burn. He keeps side-eyeing them as he tries to eat his food with as much dignity as possible. 

Then Noctis lets out a soft groan, and he thrusts his hips against Ignis’ ankle. Ravus has no idea yet what the humping-a-master’s-leg policy is here. Ignis merely pushes back from the table, glancing down and asking mildly, “What’s wrong?”

Noctis groans again and puts his hand over his stomach. Ignis seems to understand. “You need to go?” When Noctis nods and yips, Ignis mutters, “A shame—it’s much too late to take you for a walk now. I’m afraid you’ll have to use the pee pad.” Noctis hangs his head, as though he’s failed Ignis by not being taken outside to do his business on the grass. Ignis tells him, “Very well: you have my permission to go.” 

Noctis gives Ignis’ thigh a grateful nuzzle, then crawls off to what Ravus assumes is the washroom. He can’t help but stare at Noctis’ retreating form as it goes. It’s a new shock: he had no idea they had to ask permission just to use the washroom. Even Ardyn didn’t require that. Ravus can’t help but wonder if Ardyn will, once he hears that Ignis does.

And in the meantime, Ravus looks at Ignis in awe. His cock twitches against his thigh. Ignis’ control over them is so much more complete than he’d thought, and Ignis plays the role with a suave grace that’s starting to make Ravus’ mouth water. It also speaks volumes that it’s been _hours_ and not one of his pets have broken the game in the slightest. On top of that, from Ignis’ words earlier, it sounds like they’ll be going right through the night.

When Noctis returns, Prompto pauses his eating to lick Noctis’ face as he passes. Noctis grins, scrunching up his nose, but prevails through the distraction and obediently returns to Ignis’ feet. Ignis reaches down to ruffle his hair, then offers a new treat—a carrot.

By now, Ravus would happily lick it right off Ignis’ palm. But Noctis actually winces and, for the first time, leans away from Ignis hand. 

Ignis presses it forward, but Noctis turns his head away and makes a stubborn growling noise.

Ignis looks down again to quietly sigh, “You too, Your Highness? It seems you’ll also have to be punished.” Noctis frowns but still refuses to eat the vegetable.

Ravus’ stomach flutters.

That means...

* * *

When night falls, Ignis heads to his bedroom alone. The other three wait sullenly in the living room, Ravus sitting apart from them. Ignis returns shortly, dressed only in a silken white robe that Ravus desperately wants to strip off him. It would’ve been nice to get to see him change, to glimpse him as gloriously naked as the rest of them, but Ravus didn’t take the chance of following him to the bedroom. By now, he knows that he’s thoroughly attracted to the tall, slim supermodel standing before him, and he’s not going to risk falling out of favour. He looks up at his master, just like the rest of them, as Ignis halts before them.

Ignis’ gaze falls primarily to the other three. Ravus isn’t surprised, but he still waits quietly and hopes. Pausing to push his glasses up his nose, Ignis announces, “You have _all_ been bad, it seems. I must say, I’m quite disappointed in all of you—I would’ve liked to demonstrate to our guest that I have better behaved pets than this. It’s a shame he will have to return to his own master with such a poor impression of me.” All three look utterly crest fallen, though each in their own way. Ignis allows the silence to collect before continuing, “Now, normally, I would leave the miscreant to sleep out here, while my other pets slept with me—a good pet, after all, belongs at their master’s feet. ...But unfortunately, you’ve robbed me of that option. I can hardly leave the three of you out here overnight. Despite my clear instructions on your breeding habits, I’m sure you would inevitably act like the animals you are and mate with one another.” Noctis opens his mouth, maybe to protest, but then angrily shuts it. Prompto’s eyebrows knit together, staring imploringly up, and Gladiolus sits back, clearly disgruntled. Ravus tries not to show just how smug he feels. Finally, Ignis concludes, “The one I’m pet-sitting, however, did admirably well today, so the place at the foot of my bed will be his tonight.”

Ravus snaps to attention. He grins so hard, so lustfully, that he practically leans forward with it. Noctis actually splutters. Gladiolus growls, and Prompto groans. Ignis stands firm. 

He even clarifies, “The three of you will go home tonight.” The look of dismay on Prince Noctis’ face is _perfect_. “Tomorrow Noctis has training with Gladio in the afternoon, and Prompto, you really should attend. Obviously my command doesn’t extend to you at such times, but I think it would be beneficial to you. After that, if you are amenable, I will pick you all up for another session and take you all for a walk outside the city. If you’re _very_ good there, I _may_ consider letting you practice breeding one another.”

Somehow, the three pets manage to look both excited at the prospect of tomorrow and devastated for the current night. Ignis leaves them to it and orders, “Ravus, come.”

Then Ignis turns and strolls back towards his bedroom. Ravus instantly falls into line, sparing one smirk for the others, then crawling eagerly after his master.


End file.
